


not by the purple or by the lictor’s rods

by seinmit



Series: Writing the Rainbow [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Femdom, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 16:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20510312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/pseuds/seinmit
Summary: He didn’t know how long he had been here, on his knees, and he was grateful for it.





	not by the purple or by the lictor’s rods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lionessvalenti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/gifts).

> title from Seneca, because it made me laugh to interpret his noble Roman stoicism as a call for sexual service. 
> 
> “It pleases me to obey the commands of my teachers and plunge into the midst of public life; it pleases me to try to gain office and the consulship, attracted of course, not by the purple or by the lictor’s rods, but by the desire to be more serviceable and useful to my friends and relatives and all my countrymen and then to all mankind” - Seneca

Bucky shifted his weight to spare his knees, but did not move his head from where he had been placed between Shuri’s thighs. She was laying back on a couch in her rooms, skirt pulled enough to make space for him and mostly paying attention to a tablet in her hands. 

His eyes drifted up to her, looked at her face concentrating on her reading and let himself stare. Of course, she noticed his inattention soon enough and met his eyes, raising one eyebrow. 

He waited, holding his breath--and she did what he was waiting for, reaching down to push his head back down, force him deeper into her. His job was to be good, be something to make her feel nice while she was getting work done. All he had to do was focus. 

“If you’re good,” she said idly, “I’ll give you a reward.” 

His breath quickened thinking of what she meant. He had noticed the protective sheet over the couch the moment he came in and his heart was beating fast, hyper-aware of the small plastic sounds it made under her shifting body. That meant, it could mean—

She hit him on the back of his head, nowhere near hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind him of what his job was. 

He had to focus. 

He breathed as deep as he could, trying to put himself back in the place in his head that he had first tried to reach with his therapist. Meditation, they’d called it, but it had been too close to the hollow emptiness of the Soldier. This was better—the peace of this wasn’t empty. He was full up with her until he was overflowing with it. He smelled nothing but her, tasted nothing but her. His jaw ached from the constant movement, but it was a clean feeling—he felt like he was being good, like the ache was proof he had to work for it and that he was doing the work he needed to do. 

She was slick underneath his mouth and the air he breathed in was humid with her. He licked into her until she was all he knew in the world, until her blood-hot salt taste was the only thing in him. 

He didn’t know how long he had been here, on his knees, and he was grateful for it. 

Her hand fell on to his head to stroke his hair and he shuddered—the additional point of contact felt startling, drawing him more into his body when he wanted to float away. He pushed himself more firmly into her, his nose pressing against her pubic bone. He felt the soft scratch of her curls tickle him. 

He felt as much as heard her chuckle. She yanked him back an inch or two with a grip in his hair. He made a soft noise in his throat. His eyes were squeezed shut, but he could feel the warmth of her against his skin. His face was slick with her and spit, liquid both already tacky and dry and dripping off.

“Easy, Bucky,” she said, warm and amused. “Stick to an even pace.” 

He nodded his head, both to signify that he heard her and to feel the prickling pain of his hair getting tugged in her grip. 

She let him go and he nuzzled back into her, licking his way between her folds. He knew she didn’t like it when he licked her clit directly, not when he was servicing her for a long time like this, so he used the thick muscle of his tongue to rub a steady rhythm just underneath it, just around it. He wanted to push his whole face into her, hard, as if he could disappear entirely. He knew that she didn’t want that, though, so he didn’t. 

She sighed and her thighs splayed out a little further. He heard the tablet fall to the ground with a soft thump. He took that as a sign that he could up the pace, let himself a little off the leash. He eagerly licked more, sucking, and couldn’t help the noises he was making. 

“You’re so sweet,” she said, running her nails against his scalp. “What a good, sweet boy.” 

The praise made his gut feel liquid and his cock harder—he almost wanted to beg her to stop, because it made it more difficult to lose himself in what he was doing. It felt too good, reminded him too much of himself, and he didn’t want to think of it. 

She yanked his hair hard enough to jerk his head, as if to remind him that she had it under control, that she knew what he was feeling and it was up to her. She knew his brain, inside and out, she had helped recreate him into the person he was now—and it was okay. 

“Give me a finger, Bucky,” she said. “Use the hand I made for you.” 

Early on, he had begged for her to call him something else, something cruel or dirty or something—some name that would distance himself from what he was doing for her, from the way he wanted to be an object for her. It had always been that way. The Army had taken his name away and given him a new one. HYDRA had taken his name and given him nothing. He was not used to being used as a thing with a name. But she looked at him with such kindness and rubbed his cheekbone with his thumb and told her that all of him, every part of him, was hers to use. He wouldn’t get to hide behind ugly names. 

She used his name as often as she could and it made him shudder a little every time. It didn’t pull him out of the soft space he was in—not like Steve had pulled him out of the Soldier. It drove him deeper, made him feel more himself in the submission he was willingly giving her.

He had an order and he followed it. The hand she made for him had an internal source of heat to keep it at body temperature, it didn’t get cold like the old one did, it didn’t pinch. He still eased his mouth back from her just enough to suck on his finger for a moment, to make sure it was as warm and wet and comfortable as he could get it. 

She was soaking wet, dripping wet, and one finger was exactly what she needed right now. He slipped it into her, rubbing the inside of her walls and curling it up. He looked for the spot, yes, there—she shuddered and he felt a spike of victory. 

He pushed her further, rubbing inside her, pushing his nose against her clit, licking into her cunt around his finger. The smooth metal was an entirely different texture than her fleshy slickness and he pressed his tongue between her and himself. He moved with sloppy eagerness, almost uncoordinated. This was harder, in some ways, than the quiet peace of before—now he had to work, he couldn’t just settle in and take it. But it was good to work for a reward, it was nice to prove that he deserved the headspace she took him to. 

Her thighs squeezed around his head, legs up around his shoulders. He could feel the twitching and trembling of the big muscles in them and it drove him further. She pulled his hair, pulling him into her, and he eagerly fell forward.

He heard her orgasm in the high noise she made, the gush of liquid around his finger. Her hips rolled against his face, using him like he wanted to be used. He helped her through it, touching her and licking her so it was as good as it could be, until he heard the shaky sigh that was his cue to go still and slip his finger out. He didn’t move his face, though. He didn’t want to leave. 

She laughed and let her legs relax. 

“You just stay right there,” she said. “I have more for you.” 

His breathing picked up, but he stayed very still, waiting. 

She sighed again and then—warmth. Fluid seeping out of her and splashing against his face, soaking him even more than he had already been soaked. Her piss got in his mouth and over his face, in his hair, dripping down to his bare chest. It was salt and bitter and it came from her. He held himself still with control he’d learned in a different context entirely, not wanting to shake off a single drop with his trembling. 

The warmth felt like a benediction, a sour gift. He was so grateful he almost wanted to cry from it. He let it flow over him, pooling on the water-resistant cover of the couch. He pressed his body into it slowly, not wanting to dislodge her. 

“Good, Bucky,” she said, again. “My sweet Bucky.” 

His eyes stung, even though they were closed—from the urine, from the praise, it was all the same. 

He opened his mouth to swallow a couple sips down, the distinctive taste making him harder, making his whole body as warm and liquid as the piss. When she was done, he whined. 

She laughed at him and flicked his ear. 

“Greedy,” she said, and somehow that was enough to make him flush hot, after everything. 

“Do you want to come?” she asked. He shook his head, a tiny movement, and leaned further into her. The warmth of the urine was already cooling on his body. He didn’t want to miss a single second of it with distraction from his own needy body.

“Okay,” she said, soft. “You just stay right there and keep me company, then.” 

He smiled and shifted his head just enough to place a tiny kiss on her soft inner thigh, and settled in for his reward. 

Later, he’d clean up and wipe her down with warm, fragrant clothes. He would bring her comfort and he might even feel a little guilty, for having her sit in her own urine for his sake. 

But right now, he was floating on it, overwhelmed by it. His work was done. He had made her feel good and now he was covered in her, baptized and made new. He let his mind fill up with scent and warmth and the love that he felt in her every touch. 

It pushed everything out of him, and he was quiet.


End file.
